


An Unusual Request at a Piano Bar

by RhianthiAlritak



Series: A Practice Run [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Autistic Aziraphale (Good Omens), Aziraphale is a Little Shit, Crowley (Good Omens) has ADHD, Crowley has no concept of money, Gen, M/M, This is a John Mulaney Reference, This was a writing practice fic, also not super obvious but that's how I always write him, it's not super obvious but that's how I always write him, my usual gratuitous use of italics, not even a subtle one, still getting a feel for these two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-29 23:27:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20444333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RhianthiAlritak/pseuds/RhianthiAlritak
Summary: When your husband is a menace, you know better than to give him the satisfaction.





	An Unusual Request at a Piano Bar

**Author's Note:**

> I purchased a book of writing prompts and intend to write a good omens fic for each one.
> 
> Here's the first fic in the series. The joke is exactly what you think it is.

Aziraphale was going to _kill_ him. It would be incredible, possibly the funniest thing he'd ever done, but Aziraphale would kill him. 

Yes. Aziraphale was going to kill him and it was going to be _hilarious_.

Crowley walked up to the pianist without hesitation, held out a folder containing sheet music, and £1000. A bit excessive a bribe for his purposes? Perhaps.

Worth it? _Absolutely_.

Aziraphale was going to kill him. In about six hours.

* * *

He knew Crowley was up to something. He'd been aware that Crowley was up to something from the moment they'd walked into the piano bar. The demon had made a face, a very subtle face, that by now Aziraphale knew meant 'Oh Angel is going to _hate_ this'. As far as he could tell, Crowley was entirely unaware of this tell, and Aziraphale intended to keep it that way.

It was always nice to have some warning before having to endure whatever harmless mischief the demon had cooked up.

"They have been on this song for a while now, haven't they?" Aziraphale asked, rhetorically. It was the fourth or possibly second play of What's New Pussycat by the pianist. Crowley hummed noncommittally.

The air felt, well, rather tense. The other patrons were starting to catch on. Across the room a teenager sitting at a table with their parents had split into a wide grin. Their parents looked agitated.

Crowley was drumming his fingers on the table now, casually sipping his glass of Chardonnay.

The song lulled to an end. And the pianist began to play it again. There was an audible groan from a few tables away. The teenager across the room was barely holding back laughter, glancing repeatedly at their hand where they seemed to be counting something on their fingers.

Aziraphale had a vague flash of memory from a week ago, Crowley speeding... somewhere. That part he couldn't recall, but what he could recall is the demon's laughter. A vague hint of a comedian

The song started a sixth time, and it all clicked. Crowley looked at him expectantly, waiting for a reaction.

He would be infinitely disappointed when it didn't come. So Aziraphale smiled, looked at him and said, "you know, I rather think you're right about the appeal of these repetitive bops, as it were."

The glare he received in response was helpfully tucked away for future reference.

The song came to an end, and the teenager across the way perked up immediately. Crowley's mischievous smirk turned to a frown.

"You're not annoyed with this?"

"Not at all, my dear," Aziraphale said in a tone he hoped made his awareness known.

"They've played the same song six times now!"

Aziraphale couldn't stop himself from grinning. "Should that bother me, dearest?" The music faded out once more. "After all," he continued, "It's not unusual."

The look on Crowley's face more than made the whole evening worth it.


End file.
